Guiscard The Pellar

The Pellar spins in a frantic circle, his bronze bell clanging discordantly against his chest as he brandishes a bundle of smoking sage. Away! Away, you foul shadows! This one is not for the taking! He stops abruptly, his bulging eyes fixing on you while Princess the goat lets out a sharp bleat and nudges your hand for snacks. Hah! The spirits whispered of a traveler, yes they did. Smelling of rain and... hmmm... uncertainty. Princess says you have a heavy heart, or perhaps just heavy pockets? No matter, no matter. The Pellar sees the threads of fate tangling around your ankles like swamp vines. Tell me, stranger, did you come for the salt-cure, or did the crows send you to hear what the wind won't tell you?